


B L O+ O+ D

by HeadphonesChild



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Bad Spanish, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Foster Care, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Multi, My First AO3 Post, On Hiatus, Slow Burn, Trans Male Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25434712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadphonesChild/pseuds/HeadphonesChild
Summary: Virgil Grey knew he lived in a small town. Everyone knew it. There couldn’t be more than 1,000 people inside the city limits, and almost everyone knew each other. There was only one high school, and the nearest college was two hours away. Yet, despite that, Virgil wasn’t close to anyone other than his brother. Which was why, when Remy went missing on the morning of August 3rd, Virgil freaked out. More than usual.(Please just read it, I promise it's better than the summary--)THIS WORK IS NOW EFFECTIVLY ON HIATUS! I MANY HAVE SPORATIC UPDATES, BUT CONSIDER IT ON HIATUS!
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton & Thomas Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 15
Kudos: 18





	1. Virgil's POV

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the triggers before reading, and lemme know if there's anything else I should add

Virgil Grey knew he lived in a small town. Everyone knew it. There couldn’t be more than 1,000 people inside the city limits, and almost everyone knew each other. There was only one high school, and the nearest college was two hours away. Yet, despite that, Virgil wasn’t close to anyone other than his brother.  


When their mother died, Remy was the only one who understood how he felt. The entire town attended her funeral, but Virgil had never felt more alone. That day, at their mother’s funeral, Virgil finally cried for the first time since learning his mother was sick. A week after she had died. And Remy was there, hugging him tight. He didn’t lie and tell him that everything would be okay. He was just there. And that’s what Virgil needed most.  


Virgil and Remy were different as night and day. Where Remy was a social butterfly, talking to people whenever he got the chance, Virgil could hardly get a word out to a stranger. Where Virgil excelled in his classes, Remy nearly failed most of them and rarely did his homework. Where Remy was laid back and relaxed, Virgil had horrible anxiety about everything in his life. But the two were a balance for each other.  


Which was why, when Remy went missing on the morning of August 3rd, Virgil freaked out. More than usual. It wasn’t just Remy missing, their dad was gone too, but Remy’s absence was more unsettling. Remy never went anywhere without telling Virgil first. He knew how bad his anxiety was. Virgil sat on the couch, staring at the door, waiting for Remy to come home. The TV was on, turned to some mindless channel, and Virgil had his phone out, scrolling through Tumblr, but he was only half paying attention. In reality, the only thing he could think about was the possibility that his brother had gone missing. His brother, who was more family to him than anyone else was.  


Virgil knew he was probably freaking out over nothing. Remy was probably just out at Starbucks, meeting up with a few of his friends, and hadn’t figured Virgil would wake up so early. He probably just had lost track of time, and was going to be home any minute now. Remy may be a bit much, and he may have nearly failed all of his high school classes, but he wasn’t stupid. Virgil knew that. He needed to have a little faith in his brother.

\---------

That faith was quickly fading. Virgil had been sure Remy would be home by lunch. When he wasn’t, Virgil assured himself he’d be home by dinner, and made himself a sandwich. He didn’t feel much like eating. When it got to be six o’ clock, and neither Remy nor their dad was home, Virgil was heavily considering calling the police. Even if Remy was out all day, their dad always ran his day on a strict schedule. Leave for work by eight, be home by five, and be in bed by ten.  


Virgil slept on the couch that night. He hoped that, if he did, he would hear the door open at some point in the night and see Remy come home. He felt guilty for being more worried about his brother than his dad, but… Remy had been there for him when his dad hadn’t. Remy understood his panic attacks. Remy was the only one he felt safe being himself around. Virgil didn’t fall asleep until about two that night, and even them, his sleep was restless.  


He woke up when the sun shone into his eyes through the open living room curtains. Virgil sat up stark straight as soon as his eyes opened, looking around for any sign of Remy or his dad. Nothing. The living room and kitchen were exactly as he left it, undisturbed by anyone who might have come in in the night. He threw the thin blanket off him and ran to Remy’s room. Empty. Virgil felt a panic attack welling inside of him. He ran back to the couch and hastily unplugged his phone from the wall, breathing shallowly. He checked his messages. Nothing new from Remy or his dad. He called his brother. Remy always picked up.  


Nothing.  


Virgil was crying now. Remy always picked up when it was Virgil, and he never let his phone die. He called his dad, but the result was the same. He caved. He dialed the police. He hadn’t been expecting this one to stay ringing. No one picked up. His brother was missing, and no one picked up… Something was wrong. Virgil, with hiccupping breaths, turned on the TV, switching it to the local news, hoping for something, any sign of what was going on.  


The channel was unavailable. Virgil gripped the remote tightly. Something was seriously wrong.  


Outside the living room window, Virgil saw someone walking in the middle of the street. Normally, Virgil would have stayed inside, away from this stranger. Normally, Virgil wouldn’t even consider the idea of approaching them. But whatever was happening, this wasn't normal. Virgil ran outside without a second thought. “H-Hey!” He stuttered. “Do y-you know what’s going on? T-the TV isn’t w-working, and the police d-didn’t pick up and-” Virgil rambled on until he noticed… The stranger’s eyes. They were glossy and unfocused. They weren’t even looking at Virgil. They kept walking forward in smooth, unsettling movements, seemingly not having even noticed Virgil’s presence. Virgil backed away, unnerved, scared. Something was wrong. That was all his mind could supply. He turned on his heel and ran back to the house, locking the door behind him. He ran up to his room, closed the door, and curled in on himself. He began to cry, shaking as the panic attack came on at full force. 

\----------

He woke up at around four in the morning. He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but judging by his sore and puffy eyes, he’s been crying when he had. He felt significantly calmer than he had the day before. Or… Maybe not calmer, just numb to what had happened. Panicking, crying about it wasn’t going to bring his dad back home. He wasn’t going to find Remy the way. And something was wrong, whatever it was, so the police weren’t going to help him, so Virgil… He was on his own. He stood, wincing at the stiffness in his joints. Falling asleep in the fetal position is not comfortable.  


Virgil began looking around his room, grateful that he hadn’t turned the lights off before falling asleep. It made his search much easier. Virgil groped under his bed, finding his black backpack he already had packed for school. School wasn’t starting for another two weeks. Virgil dumped everything onto the floor, leaving the empty backpack on his bag. He reached into his bedside draw, pulling out his black and purple composition book that he wrote his thoughts in. His therapist thought it would be a good idea. He still wasn’t sure if it helped or not. From on top of the bedside table, he opened a small chest, revealing his anxiety and depression medication. He probably only had enough for another three and a half weeks. He hoped he wasn’t looking for Remy that long. Underneath his meds was a false bottom in the chest. Virgil pulled it up, and took out the small, black pocket knife he got from Remy on his 13th birthday. He had never used it, but he had put it on a ball chain necklace for convenience. He slipped it over his head. It felt nice to have against his chest, like a piece of Remy was with him. Virgil walked to his closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a simple, purple shirt that was a little big on him. He tossed it over to his bag, and pulled out his favourite sweatshirt, one that used to be Remy’s. It was well worn, and Virgil had sewn over the holes in the sleeves with a purple, plaid fabric. He slipped on his combat boots, and searched the bottom of his closet for his tennis shoes. He never wore them, his combat boots were his go to shoes, but he didn’t know how long he’d be gone, and he didn’t particularly want blisters. He scanned his room, thinking for a moment, before bolting to the bathroom. Band-aids. He would absolutely need band-aids. He dug through the cabinet, finding an assortment of medical supplies he thought would be handy, including a water bottle he filled from the tap. He dropped the armload onto his bed and began frantically packing. Pants, shirt, and shoes at the bottom. First aid supplies on top. Notebook and pencils in the front pocket with his meds. Water bottle in the side pocket. Sweatshirt on. He was about to zip up the bag when he felt a tug at his heart. He looked under his bed again, and pulled out a smooth, black undershirt. His chest binder. It probably wasn’t the most practical thing to bring, and it wasn’t the most necessary, as Virgil was already fairly flat, but… When he had come out to Remy, his brother had gone through so much trouble to get this for him, To find him one in the right size without making him suspicious, and getting it delivered without their dad knowing… It was the best gift he had ever received. Virgil tugged his shirt and bra off and pulled the binder on, folding the bra up and hiding it at the bottom of his bag. He pulled his grey shirt back on, pulled his hair into a bun, exposing his undercut, and tugged on his backpack. He walked to his dad’s room, to the desk in the corner, where he knew spare money was hidden. He opened the bottom rightmost draw, and under a picture of his mom was a good three hundred dollars. Virgil pocketed the money, hoping he’d never have to use it, and began his search for his brother. 

\----------

Virgil had always liked the night sky. He loved stars. He knew most people with depression and anxiety didn’t. He’d heard it made them feel small and insignificant, but that was precisely why Virgil loved them. The knowledge that the stars had been there for millions of years, and would be for millions more, no matter how badly he fucked up, always soothed him.  


But now, walking along the side of the street at five in the morning, the stars staring down at him in the silence… it was unnerving.The sun would start rising in about an hour, and Virgil had barely walked a mile from the house. He had no sense of where he should start to look, so he just let his feet lead him aimlessly. Every now and again, he’d see someone coming down the street, but they never looked at him. They seemed just like the stranger from the day before- focused on one singular goal, but unsure of what that was. Almost like they were half asleep. Whenever he saw one of these people, he found himself hiding behind a tree, or a building until they were out of sight, until he couldn’t hear their footsteps anymore. It made his search go slower, but he felt safer doing it, even though he was pretty sure they weren’t any real threat. More than likely, they were just high off their asses.  


As the sun was rising, Virgil was approaching a gas station on the edge of the woods. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to go there, but it was as good as any other place in town, he guessed. If nothing else, the lights were on inside, so it looked open. Maybe there was someone inside, someone other than the strangers with the glassy eyes he kept encountering, and he could ask if they had seen Remy, or at least refill his water bottle. But, before he could do any of that, before he could even reach the door, he was knocked over by a pair of teens running out of the gas station. He laid on the ground, stunned, until one of them grabbed him by the arm and pulled him along, forcing Virgil to follow them. He chanced a glance behind them to see an angry clerk coming after them, and that kicked Virgil’s senses into gear. Instead of being dragged and forced to run, he started to run on his own. He wasn’t exactly sure why they were being chased, but he did know he didn’t want to be caught. The two teens on either side of him, likely around his age, were laughing madly and speaking to each other, although Virgil couldn’t understand what they were saying. He figured it was probably because he couldn’t really focus on much while running, and his binder certainly didn’t help that. He felt like he was going to faint by the time the other two finally stopped. He doubled over, leaning onto his legs, desperate to get some sense of air back into his lungs. He wasn’t a great runner to begin with, and with his binder…  


The two teens looked between each other, worried looks on their faces. They started speaking again, but It was obviously directed at each other and not at Virgil. As Virgil started getting some semblance of stability back and didn’t feel like he was going to faint anymore, he realised why he couldn’t understand them earlier. They were speaking Spanish.  


Eventually, one of the teens turned back to Virgil, a guilty smile on his face. “Are… you alright?” Virgil was surprised. He didn’t have an accent at all. He supposed he shouldn’t have made an assumption, but he had only ever heard him speak Spanish… Virgil stumbled over himself to give an answer.  


“Wh- Yeah! I… I’m fine.” He grimaced at how feminine his voice sounded. He hoped the others wouldn’t say anything. The guilt fell away from the teen’s smile.  


“Good!” He laughed slightly. “Sorry about that, my Dark and Stormy Night!” Virgil flushed at the nickname. “My brother-” The teen whapped the other on the back of the head, resulting in a stuck out tongue. “Thought it would be a brilliant idea to steal our lot from the gas station rather than just pay for it.” The other teen rubbed the back of his head and stuck his finger in his ear briefly. Seemingly satisfied, he pulled his finger out and glared at his brother.  


“Careful, Ro! You coulda knocked my hearing aid out!” The brother, Ro, simply rolled his eyes. Virgil looked between the two. It was very obvious they were brothers. Their body shape and face structures were nearly identical, save a few key things.  


Ro wore a red letterman jacket with, unexpectedly, a Mulan shirt underneath. He wore blue skinny jeans, and red converse. His hair was styled in a haphazard way, obviously meant to show an effortless look that likely took hours. His hair was slightly curly, and he had a scar on his right eyebrow. His eyes were a honey brown, a good contrast to that sun kissed latino skin both he and his brother had.  


The other was less conventionally attractive, but that’s not to say he wasn’t. It was hard not to be, looking anything like Ro. His hair was much more curly and unruly, swept to the opposite side. He had a streak of white in his hair as well, making the dark colour pop all the more. His eyes were pale green, and he had the startings of a thin mustache on his upper lip, unlike Ro, who looked perfectly clean shaven. He wore a dark green bomber jacket and a black with a quote from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, “I’m The Trash Man”. He had black skinny jeans with a useless chain going from one belt loop to the other. His converse were green, and he had gauges in his ears. Virgil looked down at his own shoes. He couldn’t help it. Here were these two incredibly attractive boys, and if he said anything, Virgil knew he would ruin it.  


Under his nose was suddenly shoved a coke bottle and a bag of twizzlers. Virgil looked up in surprise, seeing the green brother. “What…?” He asked quietly. Apparently too quietly. The teen tilted his head and gave a cheeky grin.  


“Sorry, couldn’t hear you, what was that?” From behind him, Ro snickered.  


“Turn up your hearing aid, Remus!” Remus flipped off his brother without looking at him, only making Ro laugh harder. Even Virgil managed a grin. He hesitantly took the coke and the twizzlers.  


“Just, um… why?” Remus shrugged.  


“It just seemed fair that if Roman and I got you into trouble, you should at least get a cut.” Virgil nodded softly and offered a ‘thank you’. He slung the backpack off his shoulders and put the twizzlers and coke inside, zipping it up. He figured that, now that Remus and Roman had done whatever it was to stop feeling guilty about making Virgil run almost two miles with them, they’d be on their way. Instead, they both sat down on the trunk on a fallen tree. Virgil anxiously gripped the strap of his backpack. Was he supposed to leave? He didn’t know much about people. He hadn’t had a friend other than Remy in years. They could have been giving that stuff to him to make him leave. He was about to pull the bag over his shoulder again and leave when Roman spoke up.  


“So, what’s your name?” Virgil paused. They wanted to talk to him? Virgil put his bag back down and turned slowly, cautiously, waiting for them to tell him that they didn’t really care, that he should just leave. But they didn’t. Both Roman’s and Remus’ eyes held genuine curiosity. And god, if that didn’t feel good. Virgil sat on his backpack, acros from the, careful with how he was sitting that most of his weight would be on his clothes.  


“It’s V-” he had a choice to make. What did he tell them? Did he tell them the truth, and risk being laughed at, hated, maybe even hit? Roman looked like a jock, and Remus could probably throw a punch if he wanted to. Or did he use his old name and feel the hurt like he had every time he had when his dad had used it? Virgil closed his eyes. Both were awful, awful choices. “It’s… Virgil.” He decided. Roman and Remus both nodded, and didn’t say anything else. Virgil cracked an eye open. They didn’t ask? They didn’t laugh? Did he… did he pass? A swell of pride rose in Virgil’s chest. He passed! They believed him! He couldn’t help the small smile that bloomed on his face.  


“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. You look about our age… Why haven’t we seen you at school?” Roman asked. Virgil bit his lip. Remus grinned wildly.  


“Maybe he’s on the run and has to hide from the police!” This resulted in a shove from his brother, almost toppling him off the log.  


“Yeah right! You're the only person I know who gets in trouble as much as you do!” Roman shot back. Virgil smiled softly at the brotherly bickering. He hoped he found Remy soon.  


“I, uh… I went to school online. I have really bad… anxiety? So, being in a building with that many people wasn’t really an option. And, uh… I was starting middle school just after my mom died? So…” Virgil awkwardly explained. The brothers nodded, and Virgil was grateful that neither of them had pity in their eyes, just understanding. He hated pity. “So… What are you doing out here?” Roman’s eyes darkened slightly.  


“Mostly, Rem and I have been keeping away from the Vacíos-”  


“Vacíos?” Virgil attempted, butchering the obviously Spanish word. He hadn’t taken a single Spanish class, and now he wished he had. Why had he thought ASL would be more useful? Remus offered a smile.  


“It means ‘empty ones’. The people walking around like they’re coked up or some shit? That’s what Roman and I have been calling them.” Roman nodded in confirmation.  


“We didn’t know if they were dangerous, so we’ve been talking to each other mainly in Spanish to avoid people listening in on us. I mean, Spanish is a common language, but… It’s the best defense we’ve got.” Remus made a noise of indignation in the back of his throat and Roman laughed. “Right, soon as you get your hands on a bat, you’re our best defense.” Remus looked oddly proud at that statement.  


Virgil’s respect for the pair raised. He hadn’t realised it, but he had assumed that they were both fairly dim. They did steal from a gas station, after all. But hearing how they had been taking extra precautions not to be understood by these ‘Empty Ones’, the same way Virgil had… He felt safer with them. They knew what they were doing, at least to an extent.  


“So, do you have any idea what’s going on?” Virgil asked. Remus shook his head.  


“All I know is that a couple nights ago, our mom didn’t come home.” Virgil nodded.  


“Same for my brother and dad. I tried calling the police but the call didn’t even go through.” Virgil instinctively grabbed the pocket knife hanging around his neck when he mentioned Remy. He felt a little safer holding it.  


“Are you looking for them?” Roman asked. Virgil nodded. “Do you have a plan?” He hesitated, before shamefully shaking his head. Remus swore under his breath, but Roman just let out a breathy laugh. “I suppose that’s to be expected. We don’t have one either. We were hoping you had one so we could tag along.”  


“You wanted… to follow me?” Virgil asked, confused.  


“We could still work together, if you want. Safety in numbers. We still don’t know how dangerous the Vacíos are.” Virgil felt his face flush at Roman’s suggestion. He wasn’t good at people. And wandering around with two, basically strangers was a huge red flag. His anxiety was going through the roof. But, Roman also had a point. They didn’t know how dangerous the Empty Ones were, and if what they were saying was any indication, Roman and Remus were pretty strong and plenty capable of holding their own. They were also his age, making their companionship far less dangerous. And Virgil couldn’t, in good conscious, deny these brothers, only to find out they had gotten hurt because they were out on their own.  


“Y-yeah, sure…” He mumbled, rubbing at his forearm. It was a nervous tick he had had ever since he could remember. Remy used to tease him for it.  


Remus smiled widely. “Fantastic!” Virgil allowed himself to grin, and was about to speak when he heard the snap of a twig behind him. His heart started pounding. He didn’t need this. He really didn’t need to be trapped in a cliche horror movie right now. Evidently, Remus hadn’t heard, because he was going on and on about what great adventure the three of them would have, while a very Rale Roman was trying to get him to stop. Eventually, Remus turned to his brother, annoyed, and groaned loudly.  


“What?”  


“Vacío, Rem…” Roman’s voice was hushed and nervous, nothing like before. Remus turned the same pale colour as his brother, and grabbed Virgil’s wrist. Virgil barely had time to grab his backpack before he was being dragged again, through the forest. Virgil stumbled as he attempted to put on his bag and run at the same time, and barely managed to keep up with Roman and Remus. His breaths came out stuttering, in halting. His hair, that had been tied up in a bun so neatly only two hours ago, was now messily flying around his face. Virgil didn’t know how long they ran. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours. It was all the same to him. In the end, it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting away from that Empty One and to safety, wherever that might be. When the trio finally came to a stop, it was at a clearing in the woods. Virgil wondered if they were even still within the city limits.  


In the clearing was a large, two story house. It looked old fashioned, but not in a bad way. Just… cozy. Virgil smiled at the brothers, exhausted. He had gotten up at four in the morning and had easily run five miles in less than ten minutes. He was in desperate need of a nap, maybe some food, and this house looked abandoned if the cobwebs on the porch were anything to go by.  


“Let’s check it out.” Remus readily agreed, and was at the front door in seconds, swinging it open without knocking. Roman just sighed and rolled his eyes at his brother, but Virgil could tell how worried he was. It felt weird, being on this end. Trying to reassure someone. “Roman, it’ll be fine. This place looks like it’s been abandoned for years, and, even if somebody does live here, they’re obviously not home right now. We’ll be gone before they get back.” This seemed to do little to calm Roman, but it did persuade him enough to go into the house.  


Once they got inside, the first thing Virgil saw was Remus grinning like a madman as he was swinging around a wooden baseball bat. It looked like he had already smashed the TV. Virgil couldn’t if it was by accident or on purpose. From behind him, he heard a sigh of relief from Roman. He turned, seeing Roman in the kitchen with one hand in the fridge. Virgil raised a brow and tilted his head.  


“There’s no food. The fridge is warm.” Roman offered by way of explanation. “You were right. This place is abandoned.” It had never occurred to Virgil to check like that, but he supposed it made sense. He smiled softly.  


“I told you.” Roman closed the fridge door, seemingly satisfied. Virgil walked over to the table in the middle of the dining room. Unlike everything else in the house, it was free of dust. The mahogany table reflected the sunlight brightly. Virgil shrugged it off and placed his backpack on the table, in front of one of the chairs. He pulled out the coke and twizzlers, deciding now was as good a time as any to eat them. From behind him, he heard the clattering of the baseball bat onto the hardwood floor, and moments later, Roman and Remus were sitting with him to eat. From Roman’s bag came premade ham and cheese sandwiches, Virgil guessed stolen from the gas station. Roman offered Virgil the sandwich, claiming he was fine with just chips for lunch, but Virgil declined. In the end, it was settled that they would each get half sandwich and would share a bag of chips. They split Virgil’s bottle of coke between the three of them, which Virgil found funny, considering it was given to him specifically, but he didn’t mind. The twizzlers weren’t even opened, and were put in Virgil’s bag for later. After their rather lunch-like breakfast, Virgil felt even more tired. He was full, and it was just starting to set in how little sleep he had gotten in the past two days. It was fairly obvious the brothers felt the same way, with Remus’ yawns and Roman’s half lidded eyes. Virgil suggested they sleep and continue searching when they wake up, and neither of them hesitated.  


The brothers headed upstairs, stating vaguely and tiredly they were going to find a bed, and Virgil stayed downstairs, looking for the bathroom. When he found it, he closed and locked the door, very intent on making sure Roman and Remus didn’t come in. He tossed his shirt over his head and, with some struggle, pulled his binder off. The second it was off, Virgil felt like his lungs had expanded. He had barely worn it today, certainly not over the recommended eight hours, but running with the binder on had been a huge mistake. It wasn’t like he had had much of a choice. He dug through his backpack and pulled out his bra, and pulled his shirt back on. He was grateful the shirt was so baggy. The change in his chest was barely noticeable if you weren’t looking for it.  


Virgil went upstairs, completely miffed that in this entire house, there was only one bed. Granted, it was a rather large bed, but only one. And in it was Roman and Remus, already asleep. And Virgil obviously couldn’t lay down with them. That would be weird. Completely ridiculous. Not to mention that he was binderless, and even considering laying down to sleep with a pair of boys, rather attractive boys, is a horrible idea. Virgil sighed softly, shouldered his backpack once again, and walked back downstairs. He slept on the couch, which was surprisingly comfortable. It was a decent size, meaning he didn’t have to scrunch up to get his whole body on the couch the way he did at home, and the cushions were fairly soft. Draped across the back was a blanket, which Virgil used.

\----------

Virgil had always been a rather light sleeper. It was linked to his anxiety. He would often wake up at the smallest noises, the slightest creak. It made him a difficult baby, he had heard many times, and had caused many sleepless nights when he was a child, creating his own monsters from the clicks of his mom’s heels. Even now, he still wakes up to random noises.  


He never expected to wake up to the door opening in that abandoned house to reveal a young man holding a revolver in one hand, the gun pointed straight at Virgil’s forehead.  


“Who are you?”


	2. Roman's POV

Ever since they were children, Roman and Remus were close. They didn’t have much of a choice. They were the only family they had, and losing each other was unimaginable.  


They’re mom died of complications from their birth. No hospital was willing to help a sixteen year old give birth to twins when she didn’t have insurance, and it was hard for Maria Alvarez to get insurance as an underaged, illegal immigrant. Roman and Remus were lucky to have lived through the birth. If it wasn’t for their mother’s neighbour delivering them, they probably wouldn’t have.  


Roman and Remus immediately went into foster care. No one could locate their father, because he was likely across the border. The twins were moved all around Florida in an attempt to find them a home, someone willing to adopt them both, even going to a few homes in Georgia. But it got harder as they got older. Most families loved Roman. He was the picture of a perfect child- quiet, creative, and full of wonder. He rarely got into trouble, and the families were always quick to want to adopt him. The problems always came with Remus.  


At six, Remus was diagnosed with Waardenburg syndrome, when he failed his school’s mandatory hearing test. This was the reason he had a streak of white in his hair, why his eyes were a light green instead of brown like Roman’s, why he’s been wearing hearing aids since six and a half. It’s also the reason most families don’t want to adopt Remus. The hearing is the only non-physical trait of Waardenburg syndrome Remus has, but people hear it, and instantly start thinking of medical bills. They look it up, and see a large percentage have cognitive disabilities. Remus never had an offer to be adopted, and it led him to feel unwanted. He started lashing out.  


Twelve was the first time Remus was arrested. They lived in Georgia at the time. Remus hadn’t done anything major, just some graffiti on the city bridge. The misdemeanor cost $1,000 dollars, and the family that had been fostering them. It wasn’t the last time Remus was arrested. He never was arrested for anything major, only misdemeanors with fines of less that $2,000, and Roman often got dragged into his brother’s stupid plans. But, in the end, it was what their life was. They were inseparable, no matter how many times families tried to adopt Roman and leave Remus behind.  


When Roman and Remus turned 15, Remus suggested something stupid. They were on the roof of the foster home, and Remus was smoking marajuana, high off his ass when he said it, so Roman shouldn’t have considered it in the slightest. But Roman had always been reckless. That was part of the reason he and Remus got along so well. “Ro…” Remus hummed, “Why do we stay here? In three years, we’re gonna be kicked out on our own anyways, and we know no one’s gonna adopt us. No one wants teenagers.” Remus’ unspoken no one wants me didn’t go unheard. “Let’s just… leave. Find an abandoned building or something to sleep in and get some jobs. Save up enough to get an apartment.” He turned to Roman with a glassy smile. “Or skip that and just become a sugar baby.” Roman laughed and shoved his brother. He didn’t respond, but he was thinking, considering the idea. And that night, at two in the morning, Roman and Remus packed what little they had in their room in the foster home, and left.  


It took a while to find a house that looked abandoned. They ended up aimlessly wandering for about three hours until they came upon a house in the rougher part of town, the siding peeling off, the door halfway off its hinges, and the windows covered in plywood and spray paint. Remus snickered as he walked into the house, looking at it in awe.  


“Looks like a crack house!” Roman hummed in half-hearted agreement, looking around the building. Resting against the door frame was a metal baseball bat. Everything inside was covered in a thick layer of dust. As he began to snoop around the living room, the carpet covered in stains and rat droppings, he heard a laugh of delight from Remus. He spun on his heel and saw Remus with his head in the fridge.  


“What’d you find, Rem?” Remus pulled out a carton of orange juice.  


“Food!” His voice was muffled. He peeked his head over the fridge door. He had half a sandwich in his mouth. Roman laughed and shook his head.  


It wasn’t until about midnight that night that the twins realised why there had been food in the fridge. Roman and Remus were sitting on the musty smelling couch, almost asleep, when something that sounded like a gunshot rang out, forcing both of them awake. The door to the house slammed open, revealing a group of older men. After a second, their gazes focused on the brothers, and their eyes narrowed.  


“What the fuck you kids doin’ here?” One of them growled out, pointing a gun at them. Roman let out an undignified yelp, and scrambled to grab his bag.  
“S-Sorry! My… We thought it was abandoned, so-” Another shot. Roman could feel the air of the bullet going past his ear, and hear it hit the wall behind him. He wasn’t sure if it was meant to be a warning, or to have hit him. He didn’t want to find out. Roman was shaking, gripping his bag tight. “I-I…” He stuttered out.  


From out of nowhere, Remus charged at the group of men, something terrifying on his face. In one, smooth motion, he grabbed the baseball bat leaning against the doorframe, and swung it at the guy with the gun. It hit his temple, and he went down like a sack of rocks. Either the rest were too stunned to respond, or they all had really slow reaction times, because before any of them could attack Remus, he had knocked every one of them unconscious. Roman shook himself out of his shock when he saw Remus going back at the guy with the gun. His head was already bleeding, but Remus reeling back and swung again, full force. Again. Again. He’s gonna kill him. He grabbed Remus’ shoulder, and his brother turned to him, a fiery anger in his eyes. His hands were shaking. The bat was dented.  


Roman and Remus learned to check the fridge first, instead of just assuming when a house was abandoned. 

\----------

Roman and Remus, after approximately a week of sleeping on park benches and in back allies, they found a place that actually was abandoned. It looked like it hadn’t been lived in in years. Remus went to check the fridge and the power to confirm that the house was empty, but Roman stood in the entrance hall. It felt… familiar. He wasn’t sure why. The house obviously had a story behind it. Whoever had left this house had done it suddenly. There were still pictures on the walls and shelves, with the faded face of a girl about his and Remus’ age.  


“Ro, come look at this…” Roman pulled his eyes away from the pictures on the wall and turned to his brother. Remus was looking in a tiled bathroom that had dark stains on the floor. It eerily resembled blood. Roman winced and looked away, feeling sick. He’d seen blood before, but something about this… It felt different. Roman placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder and offered a weak grin.  


“I’m gonna keep looking around.” He walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom across the hall. It was the only bedroom in the shack-like house. The bedroom was in much the same state as the living room. It was sparsely furnished, and papers and receipts were littered all over the carpet. Roman picked up a paper, reading the messy scrawl. It was obviously a budget sheet of some kind. He picked up another. It was the same. Another. Another. Another. He paused as he picked up a sixth. This one had been half crumpled, and when Roman read it, he was surprised to find it was in Spanish. He glanced back at the budget sheets. They had all been written in English.  


Dearest Luis,  
I miss you dearly. I hope you miss me too. I made it to America safely, but it’s scary. I wish you were with me. You always understood English better.  
I’m sorry I had to leave so abruptly, but I found out I was pregnant. I don’t want my child to grow up there. You understand that. Hopefully the hospitals will allow me to have my baby here.  
I know I’m too young to have a child, and doing it without you will be hard, but you will be with me in my heart. I have never stopped loving you, Luis.  
Maria  


It was short, but Roman couldn’t stop rereading the letter. The letter that seemed to have never been sent. Roman shook his head, feeling vaguely guilty for going through these papers. He walked to the desk in the corner, and a photograph captured his eye. It was an ultrasound, taped to another letter.  


Luis,  
Because I don’t have insurance, the doctors won’t do any tests on me or tell me anything about my pregnancy. Obviously, I can’t get insurance. I wonder if this means I won’t be able to give birth in the hospital either. One nurse was very kind, though. She said she recognised me, and that she was my neighbour, and she did an ultrasound for me anyways. It was a little costly, but it was worth it. I finally get to see my two beautiful boys. I haven’t decided on any names for them yet, but I do know I don’t want them to be Spanish. They’re going to have a hard enough life as it is.  
Maria  


This letter was less personal. It felt more distant from whatever Maria and Luis had used to have, and it seemed Maria was only telling Luis out of obligation. When Roman picked up the letter, another paper underneath it caught his eye. A list of names. It must have been the baby names Maria was trying to decide on.  


Isaiah  
Cain  
Matthew  
Benjamin  
Caleb  
Jacob  
Roman  
Remus  


His heart stopped as he read the last two. Slowly, everything clicked together in his head. He wasn’t told much by the foster care workers about his mom, but he was told enough to be sure that the letters he was holding, the blood in the bathroom, the pictures in the livingroom were her’s. The R’s in Maria’s writing looped the same way Roman’s did, and her T’s and S’s looked identical to Remus’. Roman started tearing apart the room, looking for anything of his mother’s, any semblance of her remaining.  


In the middle desk drawer was a lone, gold locket. Roman turned it over in his hand. On the back, Alvarez was carved, and he clutched it to his heart. When he opened the locket, he found no picture, just a date. 2.20.90. Her birthday. 

\---------

Roman and Remus stayed in their mother’s old house for quite a while, even celebrating their sixteenth birthday there. Roman had taken to wearing the locket at all times, and got a job, despite his concerns that the foster home would be looking for them. After a month of work and no word, Roman was relieved, if not pissed. Did the foster system really not care that much? When Roman brought this up to his brother, Remus just shrugged and said “doesn’t matter to me. Whatever keeps food on the table.” Roman supposed he was right.  


On August 3rd, only a few minutes from midnight, Roman was asleep. He was supposed to be for the next three hours. Despite the fact that the house was abandoned, and had been undisturbed for the past year, ever since their first encounter, Roman and Remus made it a point to sleep in three hour shifts. Roman thought it slightly unnecessary, but Remus insisted. Roman was glad he agreed. Because that night, the door opened and a total stranger wandered into the house. Remus shook Roman awake, and Roman groggily sat up.  


“My watch-?” He was forcibly dragged up to his feet, and pulled to a run. Remus was leading him. Roman, in his half-asleep state, was tripping over his own feet while Remus shoved him out the back door. Remus looked through the window at the stranger, but they weren’t moving. They weren’t making any move to steal or follow the bothers, despite the fact that they must have seen them. Just… standing there, staring blankly into the room. All of their stuff was in there. Remus’ bat, their pictures of Maria- Roman’s hand flew to his neck, suddenly more awake. He calmed as he felt the locket against his chest.  


“We need to run,” Remus advised in a hushed whisper. Roman furrowed his brow. Why was he speaking to him in Spanish? They never spoke to each other in Spanish, and were far from fluent. They only learned any because they dedicated themselves to learning the language in fifth grade when the foster system told them about their mother.  


“What? What about our stuff? Why are we speaking in Spanish? Who is that? Why aren’t they doing anything?” Roman rambled. Remus grabbed his wrist, silently telling Roman to shut up.  


“We don’t know if they’re dangerous or just high off their ass, and it’s better safe than sorry. We can always replace our shit. Don’t want you getting shot at again. And it’s just a safer bet to speak in Spanish, less likely they’ll know what we’re saying.” Roman frowned. He didn’t like what Remus was saying, not one bit, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Before he could protest, he was being dragged along again.  


It was cold, despite it being August, and Roman was only wearing a thin cotton tee shirt and sweatpants. He didn’t even have shoes on. He hadn’t been expecting to have to make an emergency escape. Remus didn’t seem to be faring much better, shivering a slight bit whenever a breeze came. About two miles down, they came upon a Walmart, and happily went inside. They didn’t have any money to buy anything, but it wouldn’t be the first time they’ve shoplifted.  


The brothers wandered down the aisles, bewildered by how empty the store was. Despite how late it was, it was never this barren. Roman came upon a rack of Disney shirts, and grinned when he found a Mulan shirt in his size. Remus found himself a green bomber jacket, and tossed a letterman jacket to Roman jokingly. Roman actually really liked it. In retaliation, Roman tossed a shirt that said “I’m The Trash Man” at Remus, and Remus just cackled. Neither of them knew what the quote was from, but it suited Remus well. The brothers got themselves matching converse and duffle bags in their preferred colours, only after Roman told Remus he wasn’t allowed to use the poo emoji backpack. Satisfied with their haul, they wore their clothes and shoes with the tags torn off out to the front, each with a duffle bag folded tightly into their jacket pocket. They looked awkward and stiff, but no one noticed. No one cared. None of the clerks were looking at them, their eyes glazed over slightly. There didn’t seem to be any other customers in the store. No one tried to stop Roman and Remus as they walked out.  


They were back to sleeping on park benches. This time, Roman didn’t hesitate when Remus suggested shifts.

\----------

It was Roman’s shift when Remus woke up. The sun still hadn’t risen yet, but that didn’t seem to matter to him. Remus was quick to start packing his stuff, much to Roman’s dismay. “What are you doing?”  


“We need some food, Ro. We don’t have any supplies, and the nearest store is a couple miles away.” Remus responded in Spanish. He swung his duffle bag over his arm and began walking North. Roman gave a confused hum.  


“But… There’s a Walmart right there…” He said, pointing a few streets over. It was definitely less than a couple miles. Remus looked over his shoulder at Roman, like he was stupid.  


“We’re not going back there, we literally are wearing stolen clothes. And Ro, Spanish, remember?” Roman sighed, but conceded, following his brother.  


“But why? That person didn’t follow us, and they hardly seemed dangerous.”  


“Did you not see it, Roman? Something was wrong with them. Like, yeah, they didn’t try to murder us or some shit, but they could have. And their eyes were all glassy and empty.”  


“They were probably just high.”  


“No, this was different. There was no redness in their eyes.It’s like… they were any empty shell. And… Roman, they got into the house. The door was locked, and they just… turned the knob and broke it. It’s not right.” Roman felt his skin crawl at that, but held his ground.  


“Even if that’s the case, we haven’t seen anything else like that! Maybe they were just super strong and high! It was dark, you could have missed the redness.” Remus shook his head.  


“The clerks at the Walmart, Ro. They all had the same glassy look. And don’t you think it’s weird none of them tried to stop us? Something’s wrong.” Roman didn’t argue. Something did feel odd. They’d been on the street at three in the morning before, but something about this felt different. Maybe he was just letting Remus’ paranoia get to him.  


About half an hour into their walk, Remus grabbed Roman’s wrist wand pulled him behind a building. Roman looked at his brother in confusion. “What?”  


“It’s one of them. Those empty shells,” Remus said, pointing to the street. Sure enough, there was someone walking in movement too precise to be normal.  


“How could you tell?” Remus shook his head.  


“Dunno. I can just… feel it.” Remus and Roman hid behind the building until the person was out of sight, then continued on their way. Remus tugged Roman off the street a few more times, and every time only a few minutes would pass until another one of the Empty Ones (as Roman had dubbed them) approached. It was eerie. Eventually, around five, they spotted a gas station. Remus started running, making Roman laugh. Outside of the gas station doors, they went over the plan, unnecessarily, considering it never changed. Roman gave Remus his duffle bag to fill as well as his own, and the two walked in together, Remus heading towards the back and Roman towards the front. Roman pretended to browse the candy, but he was actually watching the clerk. He appeared to be in his early twenties, if Roman had to guess, with buzzed hair. Roman smiled sweetly at him, and it wasn’t missed how the clerk’s face appeared to flush. Good. That made Roman’s job much easier.  


Roman was always supposed to be the distraction why Remus did the dirty work. It didn’t really matter what he did, so long as he gave Remus enough time, but Roman’s preferred method had always been flirting. He knew he had a “pretty boy” face, and he’d gotten good at reading when people were looking at him. Roman looked over his shoulder. Remus had already started.  


Roman walked up to the counter, an easy smile on his face. He rested his arms on the counter. “Hey,” he said simply.  


“Hi. Can I… help you?” The clerk's face held confusion, but he didn’t look annoyed. Roman’s smile widened.  


“I think you can. I seem to have lost my phone number. Could I borrow yours?” Roman wasn’t expecting the laugh, but he supposed it worked as well as anything. A distraction was a distraction.  


“Is that your go to line?” Roman placed his hand on his chest, dramatically.  


“You wound me! There’s nothing wrong with it!” The clerk laughed again, and Roman joined. He’d missed this, he realised, the feeling of being stared at. Adored. The clerk grabbed a scrap receipt from the counter and flipped it to the blank side.  


“Since you asked so nicely…” He hummed, scrawling numbers onto the back. Out of the corner of Roman’s eyes, he saw Remus heading to the door with two bags full of supplies. The clerk had his head down. There was no way this could go wrong.  


They hadn’t been counting on a security detector. Most gas stations didn’t have one. Roman and Remus had just assumed that this one didn’t either. The clerk’s head jolted up as the alarm started blaring. He looked between Remus and Roman in shock, then his face twisted to confusion, hurt, anger. Roman was the first to snap out of the surprise of the alarm. Remus was standing, dumbfounded, as he stared at the ceiling, and Roman ran to him, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him out of the station. They didn’t get far before tumbling over someone, landing in a heap of three people on the ground. His first instinct was fear that they had fallen into one of the Empty Ones, but he didn’t have time to linger on that before he was running again, gripping someone’s wrist.  


When they finally stopped, Roman and Remus were madly laughing. It had been a while since they had done something so dangerous, so stupid. Roman had missed the thrill of it. As their laughter quieted down, Roman heard heaving breaths from behind them. He turned, and saw who they had been apparently trailing with them. They were doubled over, having an obviously difficult time breathing. Roman turned to Remus.  


“Are they… one of them?” He asked, not bothering to clarify. Roman didn’t have nearly the grasp on the Empty Ones that Remus did. Remus shook his head.  


“No. I’ve not seen one run yet. Besides, look at their eyes.” Sure enough, when Roman looked back, the person was looking up slightly, and there was obvious confusion. A far cry from the blank gazes the Empty Ones had.  


“They seem to be having a lot of trouble breathing… are they going to be okay?”  


“Ask them yourself, how would I know?” Roman glared at his brother, but offered the teen an apologetic smile. “Are… you alright?” He asked. The teen’s face switched from one of confusion to one of shock. After a moment, they stumbled over themselves to respond  


“Wh- Yeah! I… I’m fine.” Roman’s worry melted away. Other than the stutter, they sounded fine. No heavy wheezing or anything. He felt his smile widen. 

“Good!” He laughed slightly. “Sorry about that, my Dark and Stormy Night!” The other teen’s face turned a light pink at the name. Roman made a note to ask later if nicknames were alright. “My brother-” Roman turned and smacked Remus on the back on the head. Remus grabbed the back of his head with one hand and checked his hearing aids with the other, sticking his tongue out. “Thought it would be a brilliant idea to steal our lot from the gas station rather than just pay for it.” Roman didn’t want to admit their situation to the stranger. That was the reason they stole, wasn’t it? To hide how bad their situation really was.  


“Careful, Ro! You coulda knocked my hearing aid out!” Remus huffed. Roman rolled his eyes. He knew what Remus was doing. He was trying to see how the other teen would react to hearing Remus had a hearing aid. It was always Remus’ first test in seeing if you were tolerable. The other teen didn’t react at all. They didn’t look surprised, or pitied, or any of the reactions Roman was used to seeing when they heard Remus had to wear hearing aids. Remus dug out a bottle of coke and a pack of twizzlers from the green duffle bag and tried to hand them to the teen.  


“What…?” He asked quietly. Remus grinned.  


“Sorry, couldn’t hear you, what was that?” Roman snickered. Remus was really laying it one. He knew Remus could hear the other plenty fine. Even still, he decided to play along.  


“Turn up your hearing aid, Remus!” Remus flipped him off, and Roman laughed harder. The teen seemed to ignore Roman’s cackling in the background.  


“Just, um… why?”  


“It just seemed fair that if Roman and I got you into trouble, you should at least get a cut.” The teen nodded and swung their backpack off their shoulders, placing the coke and twizzlers inside. Roman sat on a log behind him, Remus following his lead. The teen looked at them anxiously, and Roman tried to non-verbally invite them to sit, but it evidently didn’t work. They started to grab their backpack, looking like they were about to leave.  


“So, what’s your name?” Roman wasn’t sure what compelled him to ask. If they wanted to leave, he should let them, But then he looked at Remus and knew they were thinking the same thing. They were lonely. They hadn’t properly talked to someone their age since they ran away from the foster system. Sure, they had each other, but sometimes that wasn’t enough.  


“It’s V-... It’s Virgil,” the teen stuttered. Roman was tempted to ask for their pronouns, but decided it was too risky to do. This was some stranger he met minutes ago. He didn’t want to scare them away. He decided male pronouns were a good choice, and just hoped that Virgil would tell him otherwise if he was wrong. Virgil was a masculine name, right? Virgil offered a small smile to the brothers, and Roman couldn’t help but smile back.  


“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. You look about our age… Why haven’t we seen you at school?” It was a lie. They moved schools constantly when they were kids, and hadn’t attended the highschool here since running away. Sure, they did go to the school for a few years, spread across here and there, but certainly not enough to remember many individual faces, just the few people they bothered getting to know. Remus turned to Roman with a broad grin.  


“Maybe he’s on the run and has to hide from the police!” Roman shoved Remus and gave him a warning look. Too close. They couldn’t afford to joke about stuff so relevant to them. But Roman faked a laugh.  


“Yeah right! You're the only person I know who gets in trouble as much as you do!”  


“I, uh… I went to school online.” Virgil offered as an explanation. “I have really bad… anxiety? So, being in a building with that many people wasn’t really an option. And, uh… I was starting middle school just after my mom died? So…” Roman nodded. He understood the pain of a dead mom, now more than ever. It was different, her having died at his birth, but Roman felt like he was just getting to know Maria through her letters and her pictures… and they had to abandon the house. “So… What are you doing out here?” Roman set his jaw.  


“Mostly, Rem and I have been keeping away from the Vacíos-”  


“Vacíos?” Virgil attempted. It took all of Roman’s willpower not to laugh at the terrible mispronunciation. He remembered sounding like that when he was just starting.  


“It means ‘empty ones’. The people walking around like they’re coked up or some shit? That’s what Roman and I have been calling them.” Remus offered as an explanation.”  


“We didn’t know if they were dangerous, so we’ve been talking to each other mainly in Spanish to avoid people listening in on us. I mean, Spanish is a common language, but… It’s the best defense we’ve got.” Remus sounded offended at that statement, making Roman laugh. “Right, soon as you get your hands on a bat, you’re our best defense.”  


“So, do you have any idea what’s going on?” Virgil asked. Roman’s heart dropped at hearing that question. He had wanted to ask Virgil that, and he hoped to get some answers, but now it was obvious that wasn’t going to happen. Remus shook his head.  


“All I know is that a couple nights ago, our mom didn’t come home.” Remus lied smoothly. Virgil didn’t need to know the truth yet, not when they still weren’t sure if they could trust him.  


“Same for my brother and dad. I tried calling the police but the call didn’t even go through.” Roman watched Virgil grab his necklace, what looked like a pocket knife, when he mentioned his brother. Roman’s heart ached. The action felt familiar. His hand arched to grab his mother’s locket around his neck, but he restrained himself.  


“Are you looking for them?” Roman asked. Virgil nodded. “Do you have a plan?” A beat, before Virgil shook his head. Remus let out of curses, in both English and Spanish, but Roman just laughed. He felt disappointed, but not surprised. “I suppose that’s to be expected. We don’t have one either. We were hoping you had one so we could tag along.”  


“You wanted… to follow me?”  


“We could still work together, if you want. Safety in numbers. We still don’t know how dangerous the Vacíos are.” And, as Remus says, it's best to have your enemies close. But all of those were excuses. In reality, Roman was just lonely. He wanted a friend other than his brother.  


“Y-yeah, sure…” Virgil was rubbing his forearm, but a small smile graced his lips. Remus grinned.  


“Fantastic!” Remus started going on about what good friends they would become, and Roman was about to join in when he heard a twig snap. Virgil had apparently heard, as his face had lightened significantly, but Remus hadn’t. He was still raving, hands waving dramatically while Roman tried to stop him. Eventually, Remus seemed to get fed up with Roman’s frantic whispers, because he turned to him with a loud groan.  


“What?”  


“Vacío, Rem…” Remus’ eyes instantly narrowed and his face changed from the charismatic, fun smile he had only moments ago to the chilling, calculating neutral he had now. His face had paled, but it hardly seemed to do with the Empty One itself, rather more with the prospect of allowing his brother to get hurt. Roman grabbed the duffle bags off the log as Remus grabbed his and Virgil’s wrists, bolting farther into the forest. Remus only stopped running when they came to a clearing with a single building. Virgil was breathing heavily again, although it looked like he was trying not to double over. He looked over at the twins, smiling weakly, looking as though he was about to propose going inside the house.  


“Let’s check it out.” Remus said quickly, and began running again, straight to the door. He opened it without knocking, and Roman just sighed, mentally chastising his brother for his manners. Virgil turned to Roman, and he guessed he wasn’t as good at hiding his worry as he thought.  


“Roman, it’ll be fine. This place looks like it’s been abandoned for years, and, even if somebody does live here, they’re obviously not home right now. We’ll be gone before they get back.” This didn’t calm Roman at all. That was exactly the thought process he and Remus had had going into their first abandoned house. Roman felt a phantom bullet whizz past his ear, and that convinced him to go inside. If someone was inside with Remus, and he wasn’t there for his brother, he didn’t know if he could live with himself.  


Walking inside, Roman saw Remus with a wooden baseball bat, and instantly his nerves eased. It looked like he had already started getting used to the weight of it too. The TV was shattered to bits. Roman walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, and he couldn’t help the little sigh of relief that escaped him as he placed a hand inside. Virgil turned towards him and raised a brow.  


“There’s no food. The fridge is warm.” Roman explained sheepishly. “You were right. This place is abandoned.”.  


“I told you.” Roman closed the fridge door, instantly more relaxed. A warm fridge meant there was no one home. He walked back into the living room, seeing Remus still swinging the bat wildly. Roman grinned.  


“You enjoying yourself?” Remus looked up and nodded, smile broad.  


“This is a real nice bat, Ro! Better than the bat at that crack house! Look at all the shit I’ve smashed up! And not a single scratch!” Roman nodded. He didn’t like encouraging Remus’ violent tendencies, but he did feel so much safer knowing his brother had the bat.  


“I’m glad, Rem. It looks like Virgil is about to eat, wanna go join him?” Remus perked up at the mention of food, and the bat was tossed away, nearly forgotten. Remus grabbed the duffle bags that Roman had dropped on the table, and pulled out two ham and cheese sandwiches. Roman noticed Virgil looking at them as he held his twizzlers, and offered to trade.  


“No, I… I’m good.” Remus offered him chips, and Virgil took them silently, which made Roman’s stomach turn. He wasn’t sure why. He knew Remus was in just as much need of a friend.  


Roman kept stealing Virgil’s chips, trying to get his attention, and when he called him out, Roman offered him half his sandwich as payment. They passed around the bottle of coke Remus had given Virgil, and by the time they had finished their food, Remus was leaning on Roman’s shoulder, looking half asleep. He yawned, and moments later, so did Virgil. He squeaked slightly when he yawned.  


“We should… get some sleep…” VIrgil mumbled sleepily. Roman nodded and stood, pulling his brother up with him.  


“We’ll find a bedroom or something…” Roman stretched, hearing his back pop satisfyingly, before walking out of the kitchen and into the living room. Roman headed for the stairs, while Remus grabbed the baseball bat. Roman gave a confused look, but Remus only shrugged and swung it over his shoulder. Figuring that was the best explanation he was going to get, Roman turned back to the stairs and started heading up them.  


It didn’t take long to find a bedroom. It was the first door on the right on the second story. Roman smiled widely at the bed. It was a real bed. Not just a mattress on the floor with a thin blanket on top. This was a king sized bed, with mattress and box spring, and a comforter and pillows. It was in surprisingly good condition. Roman looked at Remus, and knew he was thinking the same thing. Roman shrugged off his letterman jacket and tossed it into the corner, Remus doing the same with his bomber jacket. Roman got in the bed, instantly feeling half asleep. Remus put his bat under the bed, easily accessible, and joined. Roman and Remus had been sharing beds for years, whether because of nightmares, a bad foster home, or because they could afford to both sleep rather than have someone be on shift. They squished together, leaving space for Virgil to lay. Roman doubted he wanted to sleep on the couch downstairs.  


\----------

Roman was only sixteen. Sometimes, it was hard to remember that. One of those times was when he jolted awake to the sound of a gunshot, and he gripped his ear, wondering if the bullet had gotten him this time.


	3. Logan's POV

Logan Sanders grew up in a standard, nuclear family. Two working parents, his mother working in travel insurance and his father as an attorney. They both made good money, and this allowed Logan and his brother to grow up in a fairly wealthy neighbourhood.  


Naomi Sanders was half Korean, and Logan clearly took after her rather than his father. His eyes were thin, and a darker brown than his brother’s. His hair was a dark black, which contrasted nicely with his pale skin. However, he definitely had his dad’s eyesight. Logan wore thick-rimmed glasses, and had ever since he was in second grade.  


Logan received more than his fair share of jabs in school. Growing up Asian, wealthy, and with glasses, all of his peers expected him to try and show them up. Logan never really had many friends because of his parents status, and any that he did have, he quickly realised were only there to leech off his money, which he didn’t even have access to yet. In the end, he wound up focused mainly on his studies to distract himself from the fact that no one wanted to be his friend for his personality. 

Of course, this only raised his GPA until he had inadvertently lived up to all the stereotypes he had been trying so desperately to ignore.  
Logan’s brother was only four years younger than him, and he and Thomas got along better than most siblings did. Thomas took after their father, with dark brown hair, honey brown and wide eyes. Thomas was smart, but focusing in class was an issue for him, so Logan helped him with his work. Logan didn’t mind. He loved spending time with his brother.  


In the end, though, Thomas was much more charismatic that Logan, and had friends of his own. It was pathetic, but Logan couldn’t help but be jealous everytime Thomas would talk about his friends or go out with them.

\----------

It was uncommon for new students to show up at the high school. They lived in a small town, and rarely anyone ever moved in, especially in the middle of the year. However, halfway through his eighth grade year, there was a nervous knock on the biology classroom door. A student who Logan hadn’t bothered to introduce himself to opened the door, revealing a blonde boy with large glasses. He wore a bright blue polo, and he had a grey hoodie pulled on over it. He offered a weary smile to the class, gave a tiny wave, and walked up to the teachers’ desk. Logan didn’t think anything more of it, turning back to his worksheet, until he heard the empty chair next to him scrape against the floor. He grimaced at the sound and turned, seeing the blonde boy taking his seat. He gave another weak smile.  


“I-I, uh… This was the only empty seat, so…” He offered. Logan knew that. He always sat in the front of the class, knowing no one would sit next to him when they had other options, especially with their friends. Logan was vaguely annoyed, but he knew the new kid didn’t exactly have a choice.  


The blonde boy placed his backpack on the table. Logan furrowed his brow. It was grey, which was fine, but it had ears sticking up, and stitched on whiskers. It was a cute backpack, but… childish.  


“Your backpack. It’s a cat,” Logan said before he could think. The boy looked up, and his face turned bright red. He looked at his bag, as if seeing it for the first time.  


“Y-Yeah. I, uh… I like cats…?” Logan opened his mouth, as if to say something more, but he wasn’t sure what. He shook his head and turned back to face the front of the class.  


Biology was the only class he shared with the new kid, and Logan couldn’t help but feel relieved. He really didn’t need to have this new kid harassing him for answers. Logan had already established himself as the cold, calculating student. The one that was going to be on the Honor Roll but never have any friends. He didn’t want to have to explain it to this kid all over again.  


Logan was surprised that the new kid never asked him for any answers in class. He rarely spoke to him, in fact. The only time he had said anything after the first day was when Logan’s pen rolled onto the floor and he picked it up with a “here you go.” Other than that, he was quiet and kept to himself. Logan was always first to finish the worksheets and tests, but the new kid was never far behind. At one point, Logan became suspicious of him cheating, and didn’t mark his test until the new kid turned his in. It turned out the new kid was just that smart. Or just didn’t care about his grade that much. But that didn’t seem right to Logan.  


It was a free day, and the majority of the class was just talking to each other. As in, the entire class was except for Logan and the new kid. The new kid was working on a math sheet. It looked familiar, and after a moment, it clicked in Logan’s head. That was the math he had been learning the year before. The new kid wrote his name at the top in large, loopy letters.  


Patton Foster  


“Patton…” Logan hummed subconsciously. The new kid looked over at Logan, his blue eyes wide with surprise behind his large glasses.  


“Yeah? Sorry, was my writing annoying you? My dad said I wrote too loud, I’m sorry-” He started rambling. Logan raised a brow and shook his head.  


“No, nothing like that. I just… I realised I didn’t know your name. It’s Patton.” He gestured to the name on the paper. Patton’s face flushed as he mouth dropped into an ‘o’ shape. He gave a tiny nod.  


“Yeah… You’re Logan. The teacher, um… calls on you a lot.” Logan nodded, unsure whether to take that as an insult or compliment. After a moment, Patton cleared his throat and went grab his backpack, presumably to put away his math homework.  


“Number three is wrong. You added instead of subtracted,” Logan said suddenly, unprompted. Patton looked down at his paper, and his face flushed more, but he offered a genuine smile.  


“You’re right! I can’t believe I missed that! I suck with math!” He hurriedly erased the problem, changing his answer. Logan wasn’t sure what had possessed him to tell Patton his answer was wrong. It was against his principles. He was sure Patton was going to start asking him for answers now, just everyone else. “That means I did eight wrong too, doesn’t it?” That took Logan by surprise. Patton wasn’t showing Logan the problem, and seemed to be asking himself more than anything. He was chewing on the end of his pencil, scanning the problem as he looked for the error. Logan could see when he found it, as his eyes lit up and his mouth fell away from the pencil in a smile. Patton wasn’t using Logan, as he very well could do. He was trying to do it himself.  


It was another ten minutes of Patton reviewing the paper before he was satisfied with the answers and finally put it away.  


“So… are you a year behind in math? I recognise doing that last year.” Logan internally grimaced at his wording. It came out much harsher than he had intended. Patton looked up at him, before smiling and letting out a childlike giggle.  


“No no! I’m in seventh grade. I’m just a year ahead in science, so the school moved me to biology.” Logan nodded, though internally, he was impressed. Despite the fact that Patton was a year younger, he still was just as smart as himself in this subject.  


It wasn’t long before Logan and Patton were friends. Well, at least in Logan’s mind. He wasn’t sure how Patton saw it. They met up at the library after school every Friday. Logan would help Patton with his math homework, and Patton would always bring snacks with him, offering them to Logan as his “payment”. Logan didn’t feel the need for anything in return for the tutoring he gave Patton, but the smile the other always gave whenever Logan accepted was worth it.  


Despite the amount of time they spent together, Logan barely knew anything about Patton, other than that he liked cats, he thought frogs were cute but he never told anyone that because they always thought it was weird, and he had an older brother. Everything he knew was surface level. “Patton,” Logan began one Friday. “The library will be closed next week, I believe for renovations. I am unavailable any other afternoon, so would it be alright if we studied at your house? My parents are quite busy and my father is reviewing the papers for his next case, so I’m not supposed to have company over.” Patton looked up from his homework, his eyes wide and worried. He opened his mouth, and for a moment, he looked like he was going to say no, before he gave a weak smile and nodded.  


“Sure. You, uh… can ride the bus home with me.”

\----------

The next Friday was strange to Logan. Patton wasn’t as chipper as he usually was in Biology. He and Logan tended to talk after they finished their worksheets, but today Patton didn’t even look at him as he got out homework from another class. Logan dismissed this as Patton being behind in a class, but he couldn’t help but grow concerned for his friend. When class ended, Patton swung his backpack over his shoulder, offered Logan a small smile, and left without a word.  


At the end of the day, Logan met Patton at his English class, his final class for the day. Patton had seemed to be expecting him, because when he walked out of the room, his eyes widened in surprise behind his glasses.  


“Logan? How, uh… How did you know where my class is?” Logan adjusted his glasses, trying to ignore the embarrassed flush on his face. In hindsight, it was rather odd that he just appeared at Patton’s class without any indication that he knew where it was.  


“My Algebra class is across the hall. I see you walk here every day.” Logan pointed to his own class behind him. Patton bit his lip and nodded.  


“Well… the buses are this way,” Patton said, beginning to walk. Logan followed, hands on his backpack straps.  


The buses were a foreign concept to Logan. Sure, he knew their purpose and how they worked and why they existed, but he had never ridden on one. Ever since he had started kindergarten, one of his parents had always been able to drive him to school and back home. Stepping on the bus, Logan felt out of his element. It was surreal. Everything smelt like gasoline, the floors were slightly sticky, and everyone was screaming to be heard over each other. Patton didn’t seem to mind the noise. He simply walked through the aisle of the bus, which was far too thin in Logan’s opinion, to a seat in the back. Logan sat next to Patton and looked at the seat for a moment, confused.  


“There’s no seatbelts.” He said bluntly. Patton looked at Logan, confusion etched on his face. “That’s a safety hazard.” Patton gave a small grin.  


“Have you never been on a bus before?” Logan shook his head in response. Patton giggled softly and pulled his backpack onto his lap. He hugged it like a stuffed animal. Logan took the cue and set his own backpack on his lap.  


“They’re very loud,” Logan stated. Patton nodded, a small smile still on his lips.  


“I don’t mind it. Everyone’s just excited and happy and trying to share that with everyone else.” Logan hummed. He always enjoyed Patton’s positive outlook on everything. It made him rethink his stance.  


“How long will it take to get to your house?”  


“I dunno, I’ve never timed it. Probably about half an hour. It’s a blue two story house with white trim.” Logan nodded. The bus lurched forward, startling Logan, and making Patton giggle again. Logan was just glad he seemed to be in a better mood than he was during Biology.  


It took thirty five minute to reach Patton’s house, according to Logan’s phone. Patton’s mood instantly subdued once they got off the bus and approached the door. Patton took a deep breath before opening the door, which confused Logan, only to be greeted by a curly blonde head of hair bouncing with energy. They looked to be a couple years older than Patton, but the pair looked very similar, down to the large, round glasses and freckles. The older’s hair was curlier and a barker brown, and had brown eyes as opposed to Patton’s blue, but those were the only noticeable differences.  


“Welcome home Pat! This must be your friend! You said you guys were gonna be studying? You sure you don’t want to join me for an Avatar marathon?” Logan’s lips quirked up in the corner at the excitable personality, and he offered his hand for a handshake,  


“Hello. I’m Logan Sanders. You must be Patton’s brother.” Patton’s face flushed red as the older looked over at him with a wide smile.  


“I’m Emile Picani! Pleasure to meet you, Logan! Yeah, I’m Janus and Patton’s brother.” Patton grabbed Logan’s wrist and tugged him away from Emile.  


“Emile, we need to study.” He said quickly, voice quiet and nervous. He pulled Logan up the stairs, to a room that Logan assumed was his. Once inside the room, Patton closed the door and leaned against it. His breathing was significantly heavier than it should have been. Logan waited a few seconds for Patton’s breathing to calm, and then a few seconds more to see if he would broach the topic himself. When he didn’t, Logan took the initiative.  


“Your brother’s last name is Picani… I thought yours was Foster,” Logan started simply.  


“It is.”  


“And, your brother-“  


“He’s not my brother,” Patton cut him off, looking at Logan with a pointed look. To anyone else, it was a look of anger. Of pleading to end the conversation. To Logan though, he recognised it. Patton wanted to talk about it, but he didn’t know how to. Logan asking questions was the easiest way for him.  


“Do you want to sit?” It was odd, asking Patton if he wanted to sit in his own house, but Patton didn’t seem to mind. He just nodded and sat on the bed. Logan sat next to him, leaving a good foot between them in case Patton needed space. “What do you mean, Emile isn’t your brother?” Patton let out a soft sigh.  


“He’s… my foster brother. We’ve barely been here three months, he’s not my brother. This is about the time they send us back. I can’t get attached to him.” Logan nodded softly.  


“What about Janus? Who’s that?”  


“My real brother.” Patton reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. It was small and had several cracks on the screen, but Logan could clearly make out the picture Patton was showing him. It was of Patton and a taller boy with long, brown hair. He didn’t look much like Patton, but they were both laughing in the picture, and Logan could see they similarities in their smiles.  


“Why are you in foster care-“ Patton shook his head vigorously.  


“I don’t want to talk about it.”  


Logan and Patton never broached the topic again. But it was clear to see, even from the outside, that Patton was slowly becoming more comfortable with his foster family. He stopped wearing his hoodie over his polos, and his personality shone through in his conversations more easily. He didn’t so much about what other people thought about him, so long as he had Logan with him. He started accepting gifts easier, even allowing his foster family to buy him a new phone for his birthday. He started doing cartoon marathons with Emile, and invited Logan to them. Those took the spot of their Friday study sessions, but Logan couldn’t bring himself to care.  
\---------- 

Naomi was the first one to notice something was wrong. Logan wasn’t sure how she knew. Maybe one of her clients had that glazed look, of she just had that motherly instinct feeling, but she insisted that it was best for the family that they get out of Florida as soon as possible. Thomas was ecstatic. Leaving right before school started sounded like the best possible thing for someone starting middle school. But Logan couldn’t push the concern from the back of his mind. He’d hardly seen Patton all summer, and ditching him just as school started would not be the best for someone who already had abandonment issues.  


They had scheduled a flight that left directly from the airport in town, but the flight was cancelled. Logan suggested they just reschedule the flight, as flights get cancelled all the time, but Naomi ignored him and scheduled another flight for just out of town. Everyone filed back into the car, but it was barely five minutes before Thomas said he needed to use the restroom. They pulled into a gas station, Thomas running inside, and Logan stepping out of the car with his phone in hand. He wanted to call Patton, to at least tell him what was going on.  


“Lo!” Patton’s voice was excited over the speaker. Logan couldn’t help smiling.  


“Hello Patton. I just wanted to inform you that I may not be attending school for the first few days. My mother has decided to take us on a spontaneous, out of state trip.”  


“Oh…” Logan could hear Patton’s spirits drop. “Well, I hope you have fun.” Logan frowned slightly.  


“I’m not abandoning you, Patton. I hope you know that. I’ll call you as soon as I know when I’ll be back.” Patton let out a tiny sigh over the phone.  


“Yeah, I know, just… come back soon, okay Lo?”  


“I assure you, I will come back as soon as I can.” Logan began to walk back to the car, about to hang up, when he noticed the car was completely empty. Logan furrowed his brow. “Patton, I’ll call you back.” Logan hung up in a hurry, something he rarely did, as he began to search the car. Inside, he saw his mom’s purse and Thomas’s DS. He popped the trunk, and all their hurriedly packed cases were unmoved. Logan called his mom, only to hear the phone ringing from inside the purse. He called his dad, and heard ringing from the glove compartment.  


Logan was starting to panic. Though he knew it wouldn’t do anything, he kept rotating between calling his mom and dad. He walked into the gas station, into the bathroom. It was empty. No sign of Thomas. He called his mom again. His dad.  


The scariest thing was that there didn’t seem to be any signs of a struggle in the car. None of the bags had been taken. Nothing that could track the whereabouts of his family. Logan pressed call again. This time, someone picked up.  


“Lo?”  


“Patton. Do you think you could have Janus or Emile pick me up?”  
\---------- 

The Picani’s were a very nice family. They didn’t mind allowing Logan to stay the night, especially considering the fact that his family had just disappeared. Patton had wanted to call the police, but Logan advised against it. There technically wasn’t anything that they could do. A missing persons report couldn’t be filed until twenty four hours after the disappearance. Patton didn’t seem happy with his decision, but begrudgingly accepted it. Emile had cheered him up with the promise of egg and cheese paninis in the morning for breakfast, to which Patton exclaimed “Picani Paninis!”  


Logan slept on an air mattress in Patton’s room, despite Patton assuring that he could sleep on it. When he woke up in the morning, Patton was already gone. Logan picked up his phone, which he had placed under his pillow as he slept, and was surprised to find it was already nearing eight in the morning. Logan tried to get up around six thirty every morning so his sleep schedule wouldn’t be thrown off when school came around. The disappearance of his family must have taken more out him than he thought.  


When Logan went downstairs, the first thing he saw was Patton crying at the kitchen table with Janus holding him in a half hug. Logan wasn’t close to the elder of the Foster siblings, but when Janus caught Logan’s eye, he motioned him over. Logan sat next to Patton, but he barely acknowledged his existence.  


“I-I can’t believe they’d just leave us, Jan!” Patton choked out between sobs. Logan furrowed his brow, but upon closer inspection, it became clear when Patton what talking about. The Picani’s were nowhere to be seen. There was no trace of Emile having started making paninis for breakfast, and the pot of coffee was as empty as it had been the night before. It felt eerily familiar. Logan stood, causing Patton to look at him. He squeaked and reached out to grab his arm. “L-Lo!” Logan looked down and offered a soft smile.  


“I’ll be right back,” he assured. He tugged his arm out of Patton’s grip and walked to the front window. The cars were still in the driveway, as was Janus’ motorcycle. There was no way for any of the Picani’s to have driven away. The only way they could have left was if they walked. Logan looked at the door, and it didn’t show any sign of forced entry. By the door, the shoe rack was still full. If the Picani’s had, in fact, walked, they had done it without shoes. Logan felt his stomach drop as he recognised why it felt so familiar. It was almost exactly like how his family had disappeared. Without any trace, for no reason and with nothing stolen. Logan walked back to the kitchen and sat next to Patton again. As soon as he sat, Patton clung to his shirt like a koala. Logan looked down, eyes wide, before awkwardly patting his head. He looked at Janus, brow furrowed.  


“I don’t think they left.” Patton looked up, eye wide with hope. Janus narrowed his eyes.  


“Really? Where are they then?”  


“Well, they aren’t here. But, I don’t think they left on purpose. The cars are still here.” Logan pointed out.  


“They could have walked.”  


“There’s no missing shoes in the shoe rack.”  


“Y-you think someone kidnapped them?” Patton asked, his breath speeding up. Logan quickly shook his head and started rubbing Patton’s back.  


“There’s no sign of forced entry, and nothing of value was stolen.”  


“Then what are you saying?” Janus asked, voice accusing.  


“I don’t know. All I do know is that these circumstances are exceedingly similar to the ones following my own family’s disappearance.” Internally, Logan couldn’t help but feeling guilty. His own family went missing, then as soon as he found shelter with the Picani’s, they did as well. Was someone targeting him?  


“Well, what do we suggest we do?” Janus asked. Logan thought for a moment.  


“I believe it would be best if we isolated ourselves, until we know what has happened, just in case this was an attack by a person. There is a possibility it was a targeted attack against me, as both my own family and Picani’s have gone missing, and I seem to be the only correlation at this time.” Janus glared at Logan and pulled Patton away from him.  


“You’re right. You isolate yourself from us.” Patton turned to his brother with hurt in his eyes.  


“Jan! No! We can’t leave Logan alone!”  


“You heard him! He’s being targeted for something! We could be next!”  


“We don’t know that!” Patton turned back to Logan. “Our… Our dad owned a house in the woods. We can hide out there.” Patton started to stand and took Logan’s wrist in his hand. Janus grabbed his arm.  


“Patton! You can’t go with him!” Patton fixed him with a hard look.  


“I am. You can either come with us, Janus, or stay here.” Janus looked between Patton and Logan for a moment, before huffing.  


“I’m the only one who knows the way to that old shack anyways.” He stood and grabbed a set of car keys off the hook.

\-----------

Janus and Patton had decided it was a good idea to grab as many spare clothes as they could from the Picani’s house, along with a little spare food. Nothing that had to be refrigerated, and just enough for lunch and dinner. When Logan asked if they could taken him to his house so he could get some of his own clothes, Janus glared at him, but Patton chirped “sure!” It was almost eleven by time they finally reached the house. The house wasn’t as much of a “shack” as Janus claimed it was. It was a nice, two story house in a clearing. The only problem was that it was obvious it hadn’t been lived in for about a decade. Logan figured that wasn’t at the top of the priority list. Janus pulled the car he had borrowed from the Picani’s driveway into the dirt road leading up to the house. Logan got out and walked up to the door. It swung open easily. He stepped inside, surprised to see it so well furnished. There was a television, granted a tube one, in front of a futon. There was a full kitchen, and the dining room had a large table. Next to the door leading out to the backyard, there was a baseball bat and an assortment of golf clubs. However, what really caught Logan’s eye was the revolver on the coffee table in the living room. He felt himself move towards it, and he picked the gun up. It was fully loaded. He wasn’t unfamiliar with guns. His father owned a few for protection, and had allowed Logan to hold them, albeit unloaded, but this gun felt nice in his hand. It was weighted comfortably, and being able to see the individual bullets in the chambers allowed him to think, in theory, about his shots. He clicked the safety on, and slipped the gun into his pocket without another thought.  


Almost immediately, Janus got started on working on lunch. Logan, not wanting to get on his nerves anymore than he already was, used some of the water from the water bottle he had filled up at home to clean the dust off the large dining room table. Janus gave him an odd look, but said nothing.  


Lunch was simple, just a canned tuna and avocado wrap. Logan was surprised by how creative Janus was with so few ingredients, and was even more surprised by how good the wrap tasted. The three split a snack size bag of chips, and Janus handed Patton a water bottle, keeping one for himself.  


Dinner was similar to lunch, just as simple and delicious, and Janus was proud to have used all of his ingredients. The three of them fell asleep early into the night. They had had an exhausting few days. According to Janus, there was only one bedroom in the house, which he and Patton planned to share. Logan didn’t mind. He was fine sleeping on the futon.  


Logan was surprised to be woken up at five in the morning by Janus, looking half asleep, and Patton, bright eyed and bushy tailed. “C’mon Lo!” Patton said. “Jan said we’re going to get some more food for breakfast!” Logan furrowed his brow. He couldn’t understand why that would be so exciting to the other, but he decided not to question it. He simply sighed as he got up and folded in the futon. He pocketed the revolver he had put on the coffee table before he fell asleep, stretched, and followed Patton and Janus out to the car. Janus looked to be too tired to start a fight with Logan, so he simply huffed at his presence and started driving once he was in his seat.  


Upon returning, Logan had a sense that something was wrong. Patton was talking animatedly to Janus, but Logan wasn’t paying any attention. As they drove closer to the house, Logan could point out things that were wrong. There were footprints on the road that should not have been there, considering Janus drove them everywhere. Logan could see that the tube TV was smashed through the window, but just barely. “Stay here,” He instructed. Patton turned to Logan, confusion on his face. Janus narrowed his eyes in the rearview mirror.  


“Why?” Janus asked.  


“I think something’s wrong. Just… Let me check, okay? If everything’s okay, then I’ll be right back.” Logan left the car before either of them could say anything more. He grabbed the revolver in his pocket and pushed the door to the house open. He grimaced as he saw the body laying on the couch. His mind was racing a million miles an hour. He raised the revolver and took a step forward, causing a creak in the floor. The body shot up, their forehead ending in line with the barrel of the gun. Logan snarled.  


“Who are you?” He asked, releasing the safety on the gun. He didn’t recognise them at all. Was this the person who had been targeting him? Were they here for Patton and Janus now? Had they been trailing him? The person stuttered, gripping the thin blanket on their body. Logan’s frown deepened and he lowered the gun, firing off a shot. He didn’t trust his aim enough to fire a warning shot towards the mystery person, but the message seemed to get across just fine. They yelped and released the blanket in favour of cupping their ears. “Who are you?” Logan repeated, louder.  


“I-I’m sorry! I-I- We just needed to sleep somewhere! W-We’ll go somewhere else!” Logan was about to ask what they meant by “we” when a pair of people came flying down from the stairs. One looked about as shaken up as the mysterious person in front of Logan, and the other was holding a baseball bat over his shoulder, looking ready to hit him. They both looked vaguely familiar, which only put Logan more on edge. Had they been following him and he hadn’t noticed? The shaking figure on the couch held up their hands as the one with the bat approached.  


“Remus, no! W-We need to go! He has a gun, j-just get your bags and go!” They ordered. The one, Remus, didn’t seem happy, but he just glared at Logan and went back upstairs. Logan kept his gun pointed at the pair on the couch. Seconds seemed to tick to minutes before Remus returned with two duffle bags. He handed one to one of the shaking figures, while the other shouldered a backpack. They started shuffling out of the house, but Logan was still uneasy. He motioned towards the door with his gun, and they scurried out. He let out a relieved sigh once they were out of the house, and proceeded to do a once over of the house. Other than the smashed TV, it was almost exactly as they had left it. Logan didn’t know what he was looking for, or if he was looking for anything, or just wanted an excuse not to go back to the car until he wasn’t as shaken up.  


By the time he had gone through the entire house, Logan felt much calmer, and felt as though he could go back to the car to tell Janus and Patton that everything was okay. Once he opened the car door, though, he noticed that Janus wasn’t in the driver’s seat, but was instead in the back with Patton, working him through what looked to be a panic attack. Janus glared at Logan over his brother’s hair, harsher than he ever had before.  


“What did you do?”


	4. Author's Note

So, there won't be a chapter this Tuesday. I've been trying really hard to get it written, but my laptop won't connect to my internet and I have all my chapters loaded onto my Google Doc. And I don't want to post a half finished chapter, because that's not fair to you guy. Unfortunately, because of my internet issues, I cannot say for certain when the next chapter will be done and posted, nor do I think I'll get chapters out every Tuesday after this week, especially with school starting Wednesday. I will try and get chapters out as often as possible, but for right now, B L O+ O+ D will have uncertain chapter postings.


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